


Things You're Running From

by SandrC



Series: Not Another Fanfiction Collection [24]
Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: End of the World, Moonshine's journey is cyclical, Responsibility, everyone is entitled to a little selfishness, for someone so kind and selfless she sure is selfish, grin and bear it, here she is with a burden of leadership, only this time she can't run away, this is not a bad thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: She didn't want to be Mee Maw, so she ran. Sure, she said it was to look for a cure for the Rot, but the answer was close to home all along, so what excuse did she have?She doesn't want to be a leader now, but she has nowhere to go. The world has ended and people are looking to her for advice.Who is she to turn them down?
Series: Not Another Fanfiction Collection [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312925
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	Things You're Running From

**Author's Note:**

> One more after this for Balnor and I will have finished my series of "after the world ends" fics.
> 
> Moonshine was a hard one to figure until I remembered why she left the Crick in the first place. It wasn't just to find a cure for the Rot — which I believe she didn't have a name or symptoms for until they met Cooter outside of Galaderon or even as far back as Jeremiah in Moonstone — but because she didn't want the responsibility of being Mee Maw after Jolene — even though that wouldn't have happened for hundreds of years at the earliest. And now, months later and what feels like years of travel and adventure, she's wearing an ancient elven artifact, rending open the planes, and commanding armies. She has a city of survivors who see her as a figure of power and someone to look up to. She has two whole types of elves and the eladrin and two types of dwarves and the faewild halflings and her own mother and father looking at her for advice and moves and plans and suddenly it's back where she started but worse.
> 
> Coz there was always a chance she wouldn't've taken over for Jolene. She can't say no to this without finding someone else, and who else but their group is worthy.
> 
> Alanis and Ulfgar are gone. Erdan needs advice. Jaina is a guard and a protector but she hasn't been where Moonshine has.
> 
> She is something legends are written about and that's got to be killing her some days.
> 
> In the same way that Beverly should be allowed to selfishly want to be a kid. In the same way that Hardwon should be allowed to selfishly miss a home that didn't miss him. Moonshine is allowed to selfishly want to run from responsibility.
> 
> I don't think she will. It's not in her nature.
> 
> But she's allowed to want to.
> 
> Title is taken from "Gallows" by Shelby Merry. It has a good mood to it, even with the content of the tune itself. "It was mercy at the gallows that I found." A relief in not having to do anything any more.

She hadn't wanted this.

Not just the end of the world— _who the fuck_ in their _right_ fucking _mind_ would _ever_ want the end of the world anyway?—but the weight of everyone watching her.

It was easier when it was Moonshine and Beverly and Hardwon doing dumb shit like a lot of fancy fucking alcohol and drugs, then blowing up a corrupt police state in a fucking bubble. It was easier when it was _one big bed_ and not gods and devils and _planes upon planes_ of people fucking looking at her like they expect great things. It was easier when she was running away while pretending to look for an answer that lay back in the Crick itself.

But they're looking at her now and _she_ , with a veritable crown on her head—according to her daddy and Diuana and apparently the elven bloodline itself—has the authority and responsibility to issue orders and move armies.

It makes her skin itch. She _hates_ it.

Grinning wide, she smiles and pretends. She pretends to be who shes supposed to be. She's Moonshine Cybin, daughter of Jolene the Green and Lucanus Ar'Tea, two prominent members of two great peoples. She's Moonshine Cybin, winner of the Mage Madness Tournament and person who was chosen by the Thinking Cap. She's Moonshine Cybin, who went into the Nine Hells, unseated the traitor Ilsed from his throne, and instilled a manipulatable proxy. She's Moonshine Cybin, part of the Band of Boobs, the friendly and hospitable provider.

_But also_ , she's Moonshine Cybin, who carries rage close to her breast, beating sharp against her heart. She's Moonshine Cybin, who holds what remains of Maribelle Cybin in her own spores network, whispering sorrow and regret in _equal_ amounts. She's Moonshine Cybin, who wants _nothing_ more than to _blind_ the eyes that look at her for guidance.

Her back is breaking but she has to stand strong. Smile wide and pretend a _little longer_. Forty days and nights, then she can cast this off like a husk. Like an unwanted skin. Like the lie it is.

Is it _selfish_ , she wonders in the dead of nights spent trancing and plotting and planning and worrying, to want to run again? To wish for the simple times when her burden was a _maybe_ and not a _guarantee_. To miss the days spent _saying_ she was doing one thing while she was doing _another_ , no one there to call her on her bullshit.

Is it selfish to want to _disappear_ and let _someone else_ do the work?

She hadn't _wanted_ to be a leader. Yet _here she was_ , again in a position of power, several _hundred_ folks looking to her for advice, and like a lying ouroboros, she eats her own shit and says _it's fine_. That she can handle it. That this is a fine position to be in.

Back at the start, as it were.

At night—for the four hours she trances, light and aware of every movement around her—she dreams of _freedom_. Of wild lands yet unexplored and towns full of people who don't know her from Adam. Of a Bahumia untouched by the megalomania of a Hero who has lost her way. Of a sky of clear blue and mountains that break cloud cover and oceans that are tinted in different shades, like brilliant gems.

Of a world that died when they went to fight the tarrasque.

She had _known_ , going to the Nine Hells, going to fight Akarot again, going against Thiala, that she would garner attention. She had _known_ that putting herself in the public eye like that would bring people looking for her help and _she had thought_ —

Well, it didn't matter what she _had thought._ Her waking moments are _full_ of people now and, for someone who grew up in a place _swarming_ with folks, she's surprisingly agoraphobic. Her world has suddenly gotten too _small_ , too _close_ , and she has trouble breathing. It's ironic.

She wishes she had the luxury of disappearing now but...they _need_ her. Not in the same way _Beverly_ had needed her when he lost the trial by combat for his father's freedom in Galaderon—a quick word to turn the ear of a shitty child king yearning for entertainment. Not in the same way _Hardwon_ had needed her when he was turned in Grimhawk—a fury pointed at Scarlett Montgomery and her tomb, directed magic into a bitch's crypt to _drown_ her where she lay. Not in the same way _Balnor_ had needed her when he remembered where he had come from and who he was—a quiet place to cry and a warm body to wake up next to, _platonic_ , but _loving_.

They need her to be a _figure_ , an _ideal_. They need her to be Moonshine the Leader. Moonshine the Druid. Moonshine the Chosen of the Elven Lineage. _Moonshine the Hero_.

_When this is over,_ she prays to Melora, _**please** let me **just** be Moonshine again. Let me disappear._

She didn't want this back then and she doesn't want it now.

She just doesn't have the luxury to refuse any more.

So she grins and bears it.


End file.
